“It took him upon the forehead; and well was it for him that the glass was but thin, breaking to small pieces. Even so, you could see that the man was sorely hurt. But he gave no sign of pain, and I thought that the anger of the Doctor was more fearful to him than any pain, or rather, that it kept him from feeling pain at all. Only he kept repeating:
“‘Doctor, forgive! Doctor, forgive!’
“‘Forgive you, you dog!’ cried the ancient man. ‘Where is my acid? The jars are empty! Empty! empty! empty! empty!’ He sank back in his chair, gasping, great beads upon his brow; and Ouvery would have seized the occasion to flee. He leapt to the door.
“But no farther! for the Doctor looked on him. ‘What!’ cried he, his rasping voice coming in gasps, ‘would you ... would you give me the slip?’ And then, in a horrid coaxing tone, he added:
“‘Would you leave me, my child, whom I have loved? Would you leave me, after so long a severance? Yet who am I that I should hinder ye, or deny your smallest desire? Get you gone, child of my heart, get you gone—into the morass!’
“‘Mercy!’ cried Ouvery; ‘not there! Nay, not there!’
“The Doctor pointed to the door.
“Ouvery sank down upon the floor huddled in fear; and, villain though he was, I could not but have compassion for him then. But the Doctor only laughed, and he touched a little knob of brass that stood on the wall to his hand.
“Presently a young man, having a look of suffering upon his delicately shapen, shaven countenance, and habited in black in the manner of a secretary, came swiftly and softly into the cell, and stood before the Doctor, bowing almost to the ground.
“‘Ambrose, summon Sebastian, and ...’